


just put your sweet lips on my lips

by mollivanders



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, F/M, Homecoming, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 08:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10715433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollivanders/pseuds/mollivanders
Summary: In the dark, she pulls a fresh shirt on from the drawer by the bed and crawls into the cot. Tugging the blanket around herself, she breathes deeply and smiles to herself.It smells like Cassian.Her last thought before she slides into sleep is to wonder whether he’s been sleeping in her bed while she was gone.(She likes the thought.)





	just put your sweet lips on my lips

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the makeup weekend of RebelCaptain Appreciation Week - Day Five - Home. This is my first venture back into smut so thanks for bearing with me. I teetered over marking this as Mature instead of Explicit but I erred on the side of caution. Title comes from Hozier, as so many seem to.
> 
> Vague preamble notes Established relationship. Sometimes Jyn stays in Cassian's quarters.

She’s been on the lanes for weeks, trekking from system to system recruiting Pathfinders from old partisan groups. Sometimes her old contacts help; sometimes they don’t. By the time she lands at Echo Base, the cold of the planet already seeping into her clothes, she wants nothing more than a hot shower and to collapse in her bed.

(All she wants is to see Cassian again.)

But the debrief with Rieekan takes longer than expected. He grills her and the other Pathfinders for hours and by the time it’s over she can barely think straight. She stumbles out of the meeting, eyes blurry with lack of sleep, and not looking where she’s going, bumps into Bodhi in the hallway. A smile breaks across her face despite everything. 

“Bodhi!” she bursts out, eyes shining. He pulls her into a sudden fierce hug and instantly, fear strikes at her heart.

“Everyone okay?” she asks, face smushed against his shoulder. Radio silence on missions is a necessity but if something had happened and she wasn’t here –

“Everyone’s fine,” he says with a smile, releasing her quickly. “Just good to see you. Cassian isn’t back yet though – he’s on patrol. Have you eaten?”

She shakes her head, fighting off a yawn as she wanders towards the quarters. “I need to sleep,” she mumbles, and Bodhi bumps against her shoulder. “In the morning then,” he says. “Chirrut and Baze will want to see you.”

She waves a farewell as they part down separate forks and slips into autopilot. Soldiers nod at her in the hallway, others throw crisp salutes, and she does her best to stay vertical. Blearily, she finds her quarters but when she punches the entry code, the door beeps at her in refusal. She tries again to no avail. With a frustrated grunt, she drops her pack on the ground and digs out her lock pick.

The door relents.

She doesn’t even turn the lights on, just shuffles her way to the ‘fresher and turns on the shower. Dropping her clothes on the floor, she steps into the warm spray and with a sudden rush of relief, decides she’s died and become one with the Force. 

She hasn’t felt this good in weeks. 

She scrubs her skin clean, the water shaking her into alertness, and days of dirt and sweat and other people’s blood washes off of her. By the time she’s washed her hair, fatigue has crawled back behind her eyes. 

In the dark, she pulls a fresh shirt on from the drawer by the bed and crawls into the cot. Tugging the blanket around herself, she breathes deeply and smiles to herself.

It smells like Cassian. 

Her last thought before she slides into sleep is to wonder whether he’s been sleeping in her bed while she was gone. 

(She likes the thought.)

+

When he gets back from patrol, he’s frozen to the bone and tense from reports of Imperial drones scouting for the new base. He grabs a meal packet from the mess hall and passes the cantina where Bodhi pauses his sabbac game to tell him Jyn is back.

(The tension slides out of his body like water, manifest relief filling him.)

But it’s late and she’ll be exhausted – Bodhi said as much. He’ll see her in the morning.

Still, he steps lighter all the way to his quarters.

When the door to his quarters slides open and he switches the light on, a surprised smile yanks at his mouth. Jyn’s small figure is cocooned in his cot, curled up in a ball with his blankets. He doesn’t know why she’s come here instead of her own quarters but he can’t complain. She shifts, turning in her sleep, and without a thought he turns the light off again so he doesn’t wake her. Quietly, he shrugs out of his parka and then his boots. He shucks off his outerwear, aching muscles anticipating rest.

But despite his efforts not to wake her, when he slides into bed she starts upright, grabbing at his arm.

“Cassian!” she says, lost in the darkness. “Why are you in my quarters?”

His smile returns more fully and he fumbles in the dark, clasping her hand. “My quarters,” he says gently. “You must have gotten mixed up after the debrief.”

She stares at him in confusion before he lays back down, inviting her with him. “It’s fine,” he says, still smiling as she hesitantly curls up next to him. “I just didn’t expect to see you before morning.” 

The caution leaves her eyes. “Sorry I got the wrong room," she mutters. 

He huffs a laugh against her, looping an arm around her. “Seriously,” he says, “I don’t mind.” 

She yawns widely and suddenly she seems much younger than her years. The old need he’d once seen in her eyes is gone; only exhaustion remains. “Sleep,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She hums against him, a promise lingering. 

He’ll see her in the morning.

+

Cassian’s quarters have no natural light. Instead, the quarters simulate morning in slow edges as Jyn blinks her eyes open. In a rush she remembers that in her exhaustion she stumbled into the wrong quarters.

(But of all the wrong quarters to stumble into, she can’t complain about these.)

He shifts against her, his body a warm guard against this ice planet, and mumbles something in his sleep. She frowns, brushing the hair back from his face to study him. She doesn’t want to startle him, but he only talks in his sleep when something bad is on the horizon.

(Only when nightmares arise.)

The slight movement of her hand by his face snaps him awake, catching her wrist, before he adjusts. Before he can say anything, she’s curled her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. Wordlessly, he reciprocates.

She’d _missed_ him.

“I’m glad you’re home,” he says, his voice heavy, and she pulls back to look at him more carefully. His eyes are haggard in the filtered light and he looks like he’s been getting about as much sleep as she did in those weeks apart. She brushes her hand along his cheek, deciphering his expression, before he closes the distance between them with a kiss.

Muffled surprise escapes her but she pushes herself closer to him, the kiss building into something heady and promising. His hands run patterns down her side, pulling her closer, and the nightshirt she’d stolen rides up. She feels him smile against her lips and rolls onto her back, pulling him over her.

“You have to stop stealing my shirts,” he says, breaking away as he settles between her knees. “I’m going to run out.” He steals another kiss from her, insistent, then another, trailing down her throat and lighting a fire inside her.

“I’ll steal you something nice on the next mission,” she promises, arching her back as he slides the shirt further up and then off her. She’s losing control of her breath as he blazes a line across her chest and down her belly, and she catches him looking at her from where he’s fallen. There is a smirk pulling at his mouth, his eyes bright and happy.

“Nothing too fancy,” he says, and cups her. Her hips buck in sharp betrayal as his thumb circles her clit, tantalizing in its pressure.

(Oh, she’d _missed_ him.)

“Only the best,” she says and bites down a curse as he sucks on her upper thigh. He’s grinning openly now, the kind of smile only she gets to see, and the warmth in her belly coils, weeks of anticipation coming to the surface.

“Hmm,” he murmurs and when he curls a finger inside her she clamps a hand over her mouth, struggling. “Miss me?” She can’t answer, can’t think, and presses her cheek into the pillow but she must say something to make him laugh. Her hips move in a rhythm of their own and she bucks impatiently when he pulls away. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he drawls, and dips his head between her legs.

It doesn’t take long, not after weeks of missing him, not after weeks of sleeping alone and wondering if he was alive, not after a night in his bed, but when she comes back down he’s already leaning by her side again, tracing lazy circles over her stomach.

“I think _you_ missed _me_ ,” she tries to retort when she finds her voice but it’s hard when all her muscles are still limp and she still isn’t breathing normally. His eyes go dark and liquid, messy emotions coming to the surface, and she licks her lips.

“More than anything,” he says, his hands stilling over her. It’s an admission she didn’t expect, soft and vulnerable. His heart is pounding as hard as her own. She fumbles for words, tracing the line of his jaw, and exhales shakily.

“How long do we have?” she asks, pulling him close, and the shutters fall over his eyes as she leans up to kiss him.

(However much it is, she’ll hold it with both hands.)

_Finis_

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea of "on the lanes" as a substitute for "on the road" in AGFFA since they probably travel hyperspace lanes more/as much as they travel actual roads.


End file.
